


State of Confusion

by HallowedNight



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowedNight/pseuds/HallowedNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur has feelings for a certain Hobbit and chooses to act on them. But will these feelings be returned? Will Bilbo ever stop being clueless?</p>
            </blockquote>





	State of Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- I do not own The Hobbit or any of the characters in this story. They all belong to the magnificent J.R.R. Tolkien. 
> 
> Just a little Bilbo/Bofur oneshot I whipped up 'cause I was bored and I like this pairing. I mightmightmiiiggghhhhhttttt continue this...but I doubt it. Too much stuff to deal with as it is without another story. c:
> 
> Please enjoy~

A gentle smile brought a twinkle to Bofur's eyes as he eased the last gem into its place and rolled the finished creation between his fingers. The hair-bead was small, but immensely intricate, complete with twirling wings of silver and tiny inset emeralds that glittered brilliantly when caught in the right light. Weeks of research beforehand and days of work had finally come together in this one little artifact; a creation that he was beyond proud of, and that he hoped would accomplish a very important task: winning the love of a certain someone...a certain Hobbit, to be exact.

Bofur had never given any great thought to love before he started out on his grand adventure. He was a simple, joyous soul who preferred to receive his necessary affection in a purely platonic way from his friends and brother, and had come to terms with the belief that he would never find a true love. However, he was allowed a chance to reconsider this one balmy night in the Shire when he all but face-planted into the home of Bilbo Baggins. Though he denied and hid his growing desires throughout their journey, now that Erebor had been reclaimed and there was much less to distract him, the Dwarf was forced to confront his feelings. And, after a good while of solitary deliberation, he came to a simple conclusion: why deny love? Why shun something that was supposed to bring such blissful happiness?

Sighing quietly, Bofur rose from his seat and stretched languidly before selecting an appropriately sized box from a shelf above his work-desk. The container was covered in ornate carvings; though Bofur didn't have a great deal of experience working with metal, he had been whittling since he was a little Dwarfling, and was quite adept at creating a huge amount of detail with even the most basic of tools. He was quite proud of this talent, and never wasted a chance to showcase his abilities.

Once the bead was safe and secure in its velvet-lined box, Bofur pocketed it and took several steadying breaths as he surveyed himself in the floor length mirror mounted on the wall of his work room. His usual dusty-tan jacket had been abandoned in favor of a luxurious forest green tunic complete with delicate gold embroidery, though his ever-present hat was still perched jauntily on his head. Duly pleased with his appearance, the ever-optimistic Dwarf nodded to his own reflection and grinned as he strode out of the room.

Although he was initially confident, Bofur's ego quickly began to deflate as he made his way to Bilbo's quarters. Having no personal experience when it came to love or courting, Bofur had to admit he was more than a little nervous. Though he was aware rejection was always a possibility, he hadn't really considered what he would do if his advances weren't accepted. The last thing he wanted was to lose a close friend in such a preventable way.

Knots roiled in Bofur's stomach as he approached the door to Bilbo's quarters and raised a hand to knock. A sudden wave of mixed emotions washed over him and he bit his lip in an effort to stem the tide before knocking quickly and backing away. Several seconds passed with no response, and the Dwarf's anxiety began to subside; perhaps Bilbo was out and about? It was a nice day outside the mountain, after all. A little smirk wormed it's way onto Bofur's face as he knocked a second time, and grew to a full blown grin when the door was left unanswered once again.

Now free from his suffocating nerves, Bofur relaxed and checked the doorknob, expecting the door to be locked. Quite to the contrary however, it swung open easily revealing a dark, silent room. A plan began to form in Bofur's mind as he glanced around the hall before tiptoeing into Bilbo's quarters. This was a perfect situation; he could just leave the box where the Hobbit would find it, and if the bead mysteriously made its way into Bilbo's hair, then Bofur could consider the courtship accepted. If it didn't...well, at least they could resume their platonic relationship, and Bilbo would be none the wiser. But what if the Halfling believed the gift was from someone he didn't desire? Bofur froze and began to stroke his mustache absentmindedly as he considered this. Oh well; things would work out eventually, one way or another.

The open door provided just enough light for Bofur to make his way over to the Hobbit's immaculately made bed and place the box on Bilbo's pillow. His task finished, the Dwarf then left the room, feeling slightly unfulfilled, but still pleased with himself. Now, all that was left was to wait, and hope that all would turn out for the best.

XxXxX

There were many things Bofur was good at, but being patient most certainly was not one of them. After several days of pained silence with no sign of a bead gracing Bilbo's downy hair, Bofur could wait no longer. He approached the Hobbit after breakfast on the fourth morning after delivering his gift.

"Err… Bilbo, could I have a word with you?"

"Pardon?"

Bofur frowned and rolled his eyes. It was his accent, he knew; it got in the way sometimes, especially when he was rather excited or nervous.

"I'd like a word-"

"Oh! Oh, yes, um…of course, half a moment…" The Dwarf's eyebrow rose slowly as he watched Bilbo bustle around, straightening his coat and trousers before making his way out of the dining hall. He seemed more flustered than usual, and it made Bofur uneasy.

The jumbled drone of voices from the hall was cut off as Bofur closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the sunlit passage. Butterflies began to flitter around the Dwarf's stomach; why had he insisted on a private meeting? Well, he hadn't really insisted…

"Erm… I was just wondering if you had…gotten any gifts or…anything recently…" He began to twiddle his thumbs nervously, looking everywhere but Bilbo's face. "Because…well…"

"That was from you? This-" Bofur's heart skipped a beat as the Hobbit reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out the hair-bead. "-was from you?" The Dwarf nodded slowly, praying that the mottled sunlight hid the slight flush in his cheeks. "You made it? All by yourself?"

Another brief, silent nod.

"Oh Bofur, it's gorgeous! I was so confused, I had no idea it was from you! I just saw the box the other day, and-"

Bofur was quite confused himself. He allowed Bilbo's voice to fade into the background as he mulled over what exactly to do next. It was obvious the Hobbit admired the thing; the way he was going on about it, you would think it was made by Aulë himself. He had not worn it, however, and didn't seem to have any plans to. Bofur's heart sank; all the praise was most likely an attempt to skirt around the issue at hand.

"Are you…are you going to wear it?"

Bilbo blinked as he was interrupted, but regained his composure quickly. "Well…it doesn't fit."

It was now Bofur's turn to blink owlishly. "It…what?"

"It doesn't fit. Not even on my littlest finger."

All the pieces clicked into place as Bofur stared down at the Hobbit. He suppressed a chuckle, and Bilbo smiled as he saw the familiar light of laughter jump into the Dwarf's eyes.

"It's not a ring, you silly thing!" Bofur laughed out loud this time, as he watched Bilbo's cheeks slowly redden. "It's a hair-bead; look." Removing the bead from Bilbo's limp grasp, Bofur pried it open, the miniscule hinges gliding without a hitch. "It holds braids and whatnot."

Realization dawned suddenly on the Hobbit's face, and he rocked forward to the balls of his feet, glowing with happiness. "So am I an honorary Dwarf now? Put it in for me, put it in, I can't braid my own hair!" Initially bursting with energy, Bilbo sank back to earth as he noted the expression on Bofur's face. "What's wrong? Is there some kind of tradition I'm breaking if I wear it?"

"Well…no, but… Hair-beads are traditional presents that…signal that someone wants to start courting another…and wearing it is an acceptance of the…desired courtship…" If Dwarves were capable of sinking into the ground and disappearing forever, Bofur would have done it at that moment. Still avoiding Bilbo's gaze, he closed the bead and half-heartedly tried to hand it back to the Halfling. Bilbo however, made no move to take it.

"So…you want to court me…as in, you are romantically interested in me."

Unsure if this was a question or not, Bofur simply nodded once again.

"Well…you could have just told me that. You didn't have to make this…"

"It's tradition, and…I though the emeralds would compliment your eyes." The Dwarf allowed himself a small smile, which was returned as he finally raised his eyes to meet Bilbo's. It widened as he took in the expression on the Hobbit's face. It was obvious he had said exactly the right thing; a little dash of 'Bofur charm' could go a long way.

"Well…put it in then, go on."

Bofur allowed himself wide grin as he deftly wove a lock of Bilbo's curly hair into a small braid and clamped the bead around the end. It fell just in front of the Hobbit's pointed ear.

"How does it look?" Bilbo reached up to feel the braid, unused to the unfamiliar feeling of having something thicker than a regular piece of hair dangling from his head. Bofur beamed and crossed his arms.

"Quite dashing, if I do say so meself. Very Dwarf-ish."

The ensuing slap to his arm was expected; the swift peck on the cheek however, was not. Before he could react, Bilbo was off down the hallway, giggling like a little child who had just stolen a freshly-baked pie from a windowsill. Bofur ran after him with a sigh and a chuckle; he would have to enlighten the Hobbit on Dwarven courting policies later, but, for the moment, he was content reveling in his newfound and blessedly reciprocated love.


End file.
